Well, I'm finally here with an update to this story. Another couple slow days at work has allowed me to get this chapter written and I'm so relieved! Phew! Thanks to all who left comments and reviews for the last chapter and thank you to all who are still with me on this even though it is taking so long between chapters. Life is a bit crazy as it is with everyone I'm sure. No action in this chapter, just a bit of John, Caleb and some brotherly moments to move the story along. If I have a few more days like yesterday and today, who knows, maybe I can get the next chapter started. I promise some action in that one! So...onto the story :D

Cindy

"Yeah, thanks, Caleb. I'll see you in a few days," John said before he flipped his phone shut and tossed it onto the seat beside him. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then slowly let it out. The breath did nothing to calm his nerves though and he lifted a trembling hand to brush through his messy hair. "A magician? What the hell does a magician have to do with Sammy?" he whispered to himself as his truck raced down the highway.

John had called Caleb in the hopes that he had found something, anything to help them figure out what had happened at the house in San Francisco and why Sam had been targeted by whatever dwelled there. So far, all Caleb had come up with was that the last known occupant had been an up and coming magician known as The Magnificent Manfredo…and what kind of freaking name was that, John thought to himself as he went over the limited information Caleb had relayed to him in his head. The magician had mysteriously disappeared the night of May 1, 1904, the same night he was suspected of kidnapping a local young man from a performance of his magic show. Caleb was further researching the young man and his family, was in fact in the middle of that research when John had called. He'd promised he would have the information they needed by the time he met up with the Winchesters in San Francisco.

John barreled down the highway, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as his truck ate up the miles between he and his sons. He was lost deep in thought, the man confused as to what a magician who had lived and presumably died almost one hundred years earlier had to do with his youngest son. The family had no ties to San Francisco as far as he knew, Mary's family either, so John was troubled by what could have possibly connected his son to that house and its mysterious resident. Daniel had mentioned that Sam had gone to San Francisco for his birthday with some friends, but John couldn't for the life of him figure out how that could have made Sam the target of a spirit. Daniel had also mentioned a nightmare that Sam had while they were driving to San Francisco. He had explained that it wasn't the normal nightmare that Sam had, the one that involved the father and son who had nearly taken Sam away from them a few years back. Daniel had explained how Sam had shrugged it off, saying it was most likely due to the stress of school, but since what had happened at the rundown house, the eldest brother wasn't quite so sure anymore.

John squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun and reached to flick the radio on. He needed to think and sometimes a little music in the backround helped to clear his thoughts and help his thinking processes. Somehow, Sam had managed to pick up a ghostly stalker and they needed to figure out how and why so they could put the spirit to rest before it had the chance to hurt his son even worse than it already had. They already had a pretty good idea of who the culprit had been, if in fact the magician was the guilty party, but the big question was what had happened to the man all those years ago? If it was his spirit who had latched on to Sam, then he was somehow tied to the house. That normally meant that bones were buried there, or that some part of the person, or a treasured object were hidden there, keeping the spirit tied to the house. Maybe just the fact that his sons had broken in and disturbed the house was why Sam had been targeted, John thought. Maybe somehow his youngest son reminded the spirit of the young man who had been kidnapped that night in 1904. So many questions that needed to be answered, but couldn't be until John reached his sons and had a chance to find out all that Caleb had discovered. John turned the radio up louder and let his mind wander as he sped his way west. He didn't know quite what they were up against, but he did know one thing beyond all certainty. Whatever it was, it would not get his son.

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"This sucks," Dean hissed, his fingers tapping methodically on the marred table top, eyes drifting to his sleeping little brother on the bed before returning to stare at nothing on the table.

"Dean, Dad will be here tomorrow, Caleb too, and then we can figure this whole mess out," Daniel said. The elder brother strolled to the table, two steaming cups of coffee held in his hands. He sat one down in front of his brother then took the seat across from him. He took a sip from his own cup then let his eyes wander to Sam. The kid was beat, had fallen asleep right after they'd eaten and had been asleep for the past five hours. His broken arm lay atop a pillow, his peaceful face rolled slightly to the side. Daniel sighed at the sight of him, bruised and battered and worn out to the point of exhaustion. He was having his doubts that Sam's tiredness was due solely to his late nights studying. The nightmares Sam had described and then the incident at the abandoned house were leading Daniel's thoughts down an impossible path, a path that told him the two things were related. He had no idea how they could be, but he couldn't help thinking that somehow, some way, they were. Daniel was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when two fingers snapped in front of his face and he turned to see Dean glaring at him, green eyes narrowed as he cocked his head.

"What?" Daniel asked.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you," Dean replied.

"I…I was thinking…sorry." Daniel gave his brother a sheepish grin as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips. He took a small sip then set the cup back down. "What were you saying?" he asked.

"I was just wondering why? Why Sammy? Why do these freaks always go after the kid? It's crazy! First Michael Wilcox thinks Sam is his to do with as he pleases, then his freak ass son does the same thing and now this! This…this thing saying Sam is his. What is it?" Dean said, his voice lowered to an almost whisper to avoid waking his sleeping brother.

Daniel sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "I don't have an answer for you, Dean. I have no idea either. It's like…like someone's writing some fucked up story about our lives and for some reason they get off on hurting Sammy. It's one thing after the other trying to take the kid away from us and I'm so tired of it. I just wish the frickin' universe would leave him alone for once," Daniel answered, his voice strained.

Dean glanced over at Sam then back at his older brother. "Yeah, I hear ya. This crap has got to stop. Sam's been through enough and I'm…I'm fucking amazed that he can still function. I don't know that I could come out of the things he's been through without being a babbling idiot," he said.

"Um, Dean, I hate to break it to you, but you already are a babbling idiot," Daniel quipped with a wink of his eye.

"What? Hey, you big frickin' jerk…I'm being serious here!"

Daniel snorted as he eyed his brother with amusement. "So am I. Half the time when you talk I just tune you out because I don't want to lose the amount of brain cells that I would by listening to some of your stories. Too high a cost, little brother."

"You're an ass, you know that! My stories are awesome. Just because you're jealous that I have a sex life and you don't doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Dean snapped.

"Oh god, here we go….la, la, la…" Daniel cried as he covered his ears and sang out loud to block Dean's rant.

"You...I'm…I…"

"Hey, could you two keep it down. Some people are trying to sleep over here," Sam's voice called softly. Dean whipped his head around to see his baby brother staring back at him and Daniel.

"Hey, kid…sorry for waking you," Dean said as he made his way to Sam's bed.

"It's okay, been sleeping enough," Sam answered as he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. "What are you two arguing about this time anyway?" he asked.

Daniel walked over and sat on the end of Sam's bed. He patted his brother's foot and smiled. "Oh…Dean was just trying to persuade me that he has more sex than I do. It was quite nauseating actually," Daniel answered.

"I do have more sex than you. It's a fact, pure and simple," Dean quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Keep dreaming, little brother," Daniel replied.

"You're both dreaming, you know that, right?" Sam suddenly said, his face brightened by a wide smile.

"What?" Dean asked as he turned to his little brother. Daniel crossed his arms over his chest as he too turned to look at Sam.

"I have way more sex than either of you, so there!" Sam said, his grin widening even further as both brothers mouth's gaped open.

"How do you figure?" Dean finally asked once the shock of those words coming out of his little brother wore off.

"Um…hot girlfriend, late night studying in her dorm room," Sam replied with a flare of his good hand, his eyebrows arched suggestively.

"No way…uh uh…don't believe you for a second, Sammy boy," Dean snapped.

"What…you think all I do with Jess is study?" Sam asked.

Daniel's laughter rang through the room as he watched the incredulous look wash over Dean's face. He wrapped his arms around his stomach as tears began to stream from his eyes. "The…the l-look…on your face…oh my god…I'm dying!" he cried out between laughs.

Dean stood up, both hands placed firmly on his hips as he glared at one brother then the other. "You're an asshole," he said to Daniel then turned to Sam. "Any you're…well, you're just a little bitch!"

Sam shrugged as he too began to chuckle. "The truth hurts, huh Dean?"

"I'm not listening to you. You're just making it all up, nerd boy."

"Yeah, you got me…I'm making it up. You are still king," Sam said with a chuckle.

"You're damn right I'm king," Dean murmured as he stomped to the table and sat heavily down in his chair.

"You're hopeless, Dean," Daniel said as his laughter finally died down.

"But I'm king, so there!"

Daniel shook his head as he gazed at Dean with deep affection. He chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet. "So, who's hungry?" he asked as he headed for the door.

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Caleb stared at his computer screen, not quite believing what he was seeing. He scrolled down, eyes searching for every bit of information that would him find out just what he and the Winchesters were up against. Finally, he leaned back and brushed a nervous hand over his face.

"Reincarnation? It can't be. Shit," he whispered to himself as he began to pack up his meager belongings. If what he had found in his research was right, then there was much more to what was happening than just some spirit latching onto Sam. He packed with more urgency as the need to reach his friends and surrogate family nearly overwhelmed him. He dialed John's number and rushed out the door, swearing under his breath when the call went straight to voice mail. "Dammit, Johnny, this isn't the time to have your phone turned off!" he hissed as he tossed his things into his SUV and climbed behind the wheel. He flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the seat then started the vehicle. Within five minutes he was on the road and headed to San Francisco.

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John stared up at the dark house with its broken shudders and sagging porch. The rusted fence blocked his way, but did not succeed in holding back the weeds that infested what must have been a grand lawn in its day. The weeds crept their way outside of the fence and along cracks in the brick sidewalk that John now stood upon. He wanted to go inside, to find the spirit who had hurt his son and send it straight to hell, but he knew better than to go into the situation alone and without the proper knowledge of the situation. He glanced around the area, noting the few abandoned houses the dotted the block. This area had long been forgotten, the cost of even ripping down the houses probably more than the land itself was worth to anybody. So now, the houses stood dark and rotting, holding who knew what secrets behind their walls. John didn't care one bit about the other houses secrets. There was only one secret he wanted to know and he would do whatever he could to find out what it was.

Reluctantly, John turned from the house and trotted to his truck. He climbed up behind the wheel then reached for his phone. The red blinking light alerted him that his phone was dead and he tossed back onto the seat with a murmured "Shit" before he brought the truck to roaring life. He needed to get to his boys, to see what damage the spirit had done to his youngest. He needed to end this thing before any further harm could come to the boy who'd already suffered way more than any person should ever have to. He drove down the darkened streets, happy with the time he had made in getting there. He was hours ahead of schedule, thanks mostly to a lead foot and a trip free of any highway patrol officers to slow him down.

Twenty minutes later found John pulled up outside the motel, his truck pulled neatly in beside the Impala. He dragged himself from the truck with a tired sigh then reached in for his phone and duffel bag. He walked to the room his boys were in and knocked firmly on the door. Thirty seconds later he could hear movement inside the room then finally the door cracked open and a questioning eye peered out from the darkness. The eye widened and the door pulled fully open.

"Dad," a relieved voice said as the large, bedraggled man pushed his way inside.

That's it for now! Dad is there and Caleb is on his way. Wonder how John will handle the news that Caleb has for him. How will the brothers react? We'll see :D Thanks for reading!

Cindy